Haunted By Your Ghost
by MidniteRaine
Summary: Rhonda puts a plan in action to stop Curly from bothering her. A mistake in carrying out her plan results in unhappiness she didn't expect to obtain.
1. The Bitter Taste of Regret

**Disclaimer: **I absolutely, positively, without a shadow of a doubt,** do not own Hey Arnold!** (Though I wish I do!)

**Chapter One - The Bitter Taste of Regret****  
**

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd couldn't wait until tomorrow. In 24 hours, her worries of Curly pestering her would be gone for good. She skipped up the stoop leading to her front door. Before she could open it, it swung open.

"Ciao, Rhonda darling!" said Brooke Lloyd.

"Welcome home, dear!" said Buckley Lloyd.

Rhonda grinned and waved "hello". "Ciao, mummy! Ciao, daddy!"

Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd returned Rhonda's bright, cheery smile, appreciative of their heir's return from public school. Rhonda felt eager to reciprocate customary air kisses to her parents over each cheek. The sting of Curly's amorous kiss that lingered on her lips since lunch time finally disappeared. She feared even a deep cleansing would not rid her of the stains from his touch that soaked into her clothing and her skin. However, the fact Curly would soon become less of a threat overshadowed her pessimistic thoughts.

That evening at the dinner table after she finished her food, she announced to be excused to her room and gave her compliments to the head chef who cooked their meal. Rhonda maintained her normal composure as she journeyed into her room and found her school bag on her bed. Her excitement exploded as she rummaged through her bag until she found her object of desire: a purple bottle full of a special potion recommended to her by Big Patty. She mentioned she should see some strange lady at her "Potion Shop" who went by the name "Madame Sophia".

During recess, Rhonda asked Patty if Sophia was an authentic gypsy unlike Madame Blanche who gave Helga a hokey "love potion". Patty nodded and gave an assured "yes". That's all Rhonda needed to hear to make a quick stop at Sophia's shop and fork over ten dollars (which to an average kid was like spending a penny: it was nothing) to purchase the potion. Rhonda was relieved it had easy instructions: take the potion before bedtime and the following morning, make a wish and it would be granted that evening.

She laughed as she unscrewed the top off of the bottle and immediately gulped down the concoction. Neglecting her manners she learned in finishing school, she didn't care when a few drops of potion splashed on her chin and neck. She put the bottle down on her dresser and wiped her mouth with a silk handkerchief she kept in her pocket.

"Not bad. Tastes like grape juice," said Rhonda, smiling.

After changing into her pajamas, reflecting her "princess" status, she slipped into bed with a smirk. "At last, I finally have a plan to get Curly to stop bothering me and finally end his unrealistic plans to win my love and affection," she said before her eyelids grew heavy and closed shut.

Rhonda shrieked at the top of her lungs the instant Curly Gammelthorpe's arm wrapped around her waist. He lowered his head so it was level with hers and puckered his lips that were aimed and ready to land on hers. She swore she saw his eyes twinkle evilly behind his bright cherry rimmed glasses.

He laughed. "Give Daddy some _sugar_!"

Her face contorted into a hard grimace. "Ugh! Get _away_ from me!"

Rhonda sprang out of her seat next to Nadine in the cafeteria, scurrying through the exit and down the hallway with Curly in hot pursuit. She scrambled into the girl's bathroom, happy to be in holy ground from the crazy, maniacal lunatic known as Curly.

He cackled, his laughter clearly audible even from behind the thick metal door. That sinister sound always gave her chills. Her waist still scalded from his acidic embrace. She leapt and gasped from his loud voice that abruptly ended the brief silence.

"You can't stay in there forever!" he said.

"Errrrrrrgh! Go _away_, you _creep_!"

"Not until I win your heart and cease this unrequited love!"

A few minutes later after hearing no one in the hall, Rhonda left the bathroom. She shuddered at the sight of Curly, his annoying smile making Rhonda's stomach churn. He ran toward her and leaped towards his object of affection. Their limbs flailed as they slammed into the entryway and dropped to the ground. Curly stayed on top, pinning Rhonda by her arms to the floor. She grimaced at the purple "Rhonda's hunk" shirt he wore proudly over his green and orange top.

Curly poked out his lips, making kissing sounds. "Now, Daddy's gonna get his _sugar_!"

Rhonda almost chopped off her tongue the way her teeth haphazardly chomped down on it. "Noooooooo!"

He descended closer…closer…closer until his lips contacted hers.

Her eyes became the widest they had ever been. She hollered as she grabbed his shoulders, shoving him away. "Ugggggggggh! Disgusting!"

Rhonda flung him to the side and got up on one knee. She used her other leg to leap upward and land squarely on both feet. She discovered Curly lying face down in the middle of the vacant hallway. Thankful she was still taller and presumably stronger than Curly, Rhonda pulled him up by his shirt collar and thrust him against the locker, shocked his face still had that sickening grin as if nothing could distract him from going after her.

Rhonda felt herself frothing at the mouth. "Curly, I can't take it anymore! You're driving me utterly mad I tell you, mad!"

"Say it isn't so, my love!"

"It _is_ so, Curly!"

She felt her face burn with antipathy and fury. She inhaled and exhaled sharply, sounding as if she had finished a mile run at top speed. The heat dissolved from her face as she noticed other students passing by in the hall. Rhonda's mouth fell open.

Curly's smile disappeared. He blinked twice. "But Rhonda-"

"Since you surely don't understand, I say this for the last time in plain, simple English that is so simple, even Harold or the lowest form of caveman could understand," Rhonda said. She poked him harshly in the chest, his back hitting the locker as a result. "Stop stalking me, stop spying on me, stop writing those icky love letters about me, stop hugging and kissing me, stop wearing those tacky shirts claiming I'm your girl or you're my hunk, stop leaving gifts in my locker, and most of all, stop trying to, as you say it, win my heart! It's not going to happen, Curly! Not in this universe, not in our lifetime, not _ever_! _Got it_?" she said through gritted teeth.

"But-"

Rhonda shook him by the collar. "_Jesus_, Curly, don't you get it? I don't love you, okay? I never have, and I never _will_! Now leave me _alone_! Ugh!"

She marched away toward the bathroom, launching up both her hands as Curly stood behind her, eyebrows raised, and no sign of a smile visible on his face. "God! I wish you'd just do me and everyone else a favor and _die_ or something so I can live in peace, once and for all!"

Rhonda leaned against the entrance she slammed shut, breathing massively, ignoring the fact that a few bangs of her hair were out of place, and the fact she spilled kiwi strawberry gelatin dessert on her pants. She clamored, rubbing her face as she walked toward the mirror, her footsteps echoing throughout the bathroom occupied by no one but her. For once she felt happy to be around the various toilets and sinks, even if they were grimy with hardened soap scum, used, wrinkled paper towels and whatever else was causing the place to smell like urine. At least she was away from Curly.

Rhonda despised lunch time. Everyday before lunch period, she had a confrontation with Curly. He would somehow find her and she would hide in the girl's bathroom until he disappeared. It was like Groundhog's Day, only worse; _much_ worse.

_God, I hate him! He's like a cockroach. He just won't go away!_ thought Rhonda. She growled, boiling with anger. She hastily became aware of the green blotches on her left leg. She raced over to the paper towel dispenser to take some out, darted over to the sink and moistened a few towels with warm water.

"Thank God I didn't wear my best clothes today," she said.

She sighed vehemently while she scrubbed at the stain with the towels. Of course, Curly had to be the one to ruin her dress. Her body began to loosen up, become less tense. She threw her towels away and stepped to the mirror, looking herself in the eyes. Suddenly she remembered.

The wish. She still had to make the wish.

"I wish Curly would leave me alone."

_Despite the craziness, the constant harassment and the fact he must have an immediate fashion overhaul, he's an okay guy_, thought Rhonda. _And that's all he was, is and ever will be: an okay guy._

The following day, Rhonda entered the classroom, followed by her student peers. She favored a seat in the middle of the back row and sat up straight, her hands clasped in the middle of the desk. She cringed instinctively, ready for one of Curly's rambunctious hugs or unnecessary begging sessions for a kiss. Rhonda felt her body repose after she acknowledged Curly was absent from class, but kept her guard up throughout the day.

The next day, Rhonda chose the same seat as the day before. Her eyes continually scanned the room in search of Curly while her classmates entered and took their seats. She rubbed her hands as she stared at the doorway, apprehensive for Curly to appear.

"Hey Gerald. You notice something missing around here?"

"What? Oh, you talkin' about how they got rid of the mystery meat?"

"Besides that."

Gerald thought for a moment, then spoke. "Nope, can't think of anything."

Rhonda observed the two best confidants inhabit the desks one row before her, conversing with each other.

"It's Curly. He's been absent two days straight," said Arnold. More and more students showed up in class, including Mr. Simmons. "He's usually here every day."

She couldn't help but continue to eavesdrop when they mentioned Curly's name. She inclined forward, able to clearly hear the two boys' conversation without getting caught.

"You know what? Now that you mention it, it is a little strange. It's almost a little…too quiet around here."

"I hope he's all right."

Gerald put up a finger, shaking his head. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not worried about the guy, but he's usually here every day following Rhonda around like a shadow, chasing after her during lunch time or sitting next to her when we're in class. Maybe he's sick or something."

Arnold shrugged. "Maybe. Last time I saw him, he looked depressed. Like someone close to him died or something."

"Well, Phoebe told me Rhonda snapped and went off on him a few days ago. He's probably just depressed because she rejected him…again," Gerald said, rolling his eyes. "But you know Curly. He'll be back before we know it, begging Rhonda to be his girlfriend…again. Only to get rejected…again."

Arnold sighed. "I don't know, Gerald. This could be something serious."

Gerald waved it off. "Aw, don't worry about him, Arnold. He'll bounce back like he always does."

Arnold nodded. "You might be right. But I've got a bad feeling about this," Rhonda last heard Arnold say before everyone settled down after Mr. Simmons announced the beginning of class and to begin their history group projects.

Ten minutes before school let out, Rhonda watched Nadine finish her presentation at the front of the class while she took a sip of pure drinking water. Of course she made sure it was processed by ozonation, advanced filtration and reverse osmosis technologies.

_Sheena may be a geek, but she definitely knows where to find good water_, Rhonda thought. After putting her bottle away in her bag, she sighed in relief that the past few days thankfully had no Curly appearances whatsoever.

"Nadine, thank you. That was a wonderful presentation," said Mr. Simmons.

"Bravo, Nadine," said Rhonda. She clapped along with the other students in her class for Nadine, who went last in divulging information about her latest collection of bugs she found in the park. She carried a few jars of bugs with her as she sat down and placed them under her desk.

"Oh my gosh, class," said Mr. Simmons with a hand on his cheek, the other holding a note he finished reading that he received from a P.S. 118 faculty member who came in the room as quickly as they left. "I have some horrible, horrible news."

"Oh my God, the rumor's true! The school's stopped serving tapioca pudding!" said Harold, before taking the last bite of his Mr. Fudgie.

"Ah, put a sock in it, pink boy," said Helga, frowning at Harold, who glared back at her while chewing on his food.

Harold slammed his desktop with his fist. "I wasn't talking to you, Madam Fortress Mommy!"

Mr. Simmons shoved the note in his pants pocket. "No, it's not that, Harold. The tapioca pudding supply as far as I know is fine. However, onto more pressing matters and the reason for this announcement. It turns out Curly, sadly, is no longer with us."

"Wilikers," Stinky said. "You mean he moved to another _school_?"

"Criminy, it's about _time_! I guess P.S. 118 finally decided to ship out the little demented psycho," said Helga, cackling afterward.

"I reckon they put him in the nuthouse."

"Doi! You _think_?"

"No, Stinky…Helga," he bowed his head, a few tears gathering in his eyes. "It's much worse than that."

Helga sighed after Mr. Simmons was speechless for a few moments. "Well? What's the news? We don't have all day. Spill the beans already!" she said, the rest of the class murmuring to a neighbor or asking Mr. Simmons to tell them the news.

"Class, two days ago, Curly was taken to the hospital after feeling very ill, which explains why he was absent," said Mr. Simmons, right before the whole class became completely silent. "And, last night, he unfortunately fell ill to an unknown virus and passed away."

Rhonda gasped along with the rest of the class. Her pen dropped to the ground. She placed her hand on her chest, swearing that she felt it stop. At that point, it hit her.

_"God! **I wish** you'd just do me and everyone else a favor and **die** or something so I can live in peace, once and for all!"_

Rhonda felt her whole body turn cold. She realized she made her wish without thinking things through.

"Oh my God. _I_ killed _Curly_."


	2. Please Remedy My Confusion

**Disclaimer: **I unquestionably, assuredly, without a shadow of a doubt,** do not own Hey Arnold!** (But if there was a way to own it for cheap, I would've done it already and I wouldn't need a disclaimer!)

**Chapter Two - Please Remedy My Confusion**

Rhonda had never screamed so hard, so loud and so shrill in her whole life. She sat up in bed with a nerve wracking start, eyes wide open, breathing hastily. Her lips assumed a closed lip grin, indebted to be enveloped by the placid jet blackness. She was pleased to be protected, not to mention intact in her room, something she had not experienced since leaving Arnold's boarding house. She peered at the alarm clock on her dresser.

_3:20 am_, it read, which was three hours too untimely to be up. Nevertheless, for the time being, she could not sleep anymore, not after that horrible fantasy; a nightmare, rather.

Her nightmare about…him.

Thaddeus "Curly" Gammelthorpe.

Poor, poor, sad, little demented Curly.

The calamity commenced out as a favorable dream. Rhonda took the bus to school, amassing ample of adulations from her classmates. They were fixated on her new carmine SoftWalk Adoras and her up-to-date charcoal, tight fitting jeans that looked so first-rate, let alone dignified.

"Well I'll be darned, Rhonda!" Stinky gawked with a huge grin, sitting a few rows behind her. "Not only do you smell lovely but your wardrobe is equally as first-rate and dignified!"

"Go bug off, cheeseball", was what Rhonda itched to say. Instead she turned toward him and nodded with a smile. "Why thank you, Stinky."

Once they all arrived at school, she entered Mr. Simmons's classroom.

Then the twist emerged.

She advanced in alone, and recognized Curly standing on a desk with a noose around his neck that came down from the ceiling. He confessed he plunged so far in his downward spiral and was so dejected about being disparaged by Rhonda. He forewarned to commit suicide unless Rhonda told him she loved him and would betroth him.

As shortly as she obstinately stated him "yes" to both conditions, Mr. Simmons popped out of nowhere as the designated minister standing behind a podium, and had them married as husband and wife. An organ player was behind him, playing Richard Wagner's "Bridal Chorus".

Rhonda shuddered. Her glare could stab Curly's eyes to dissolution. "Wait! We can't be married! We're only nine!"

She observed herself and clamored. Her prepubescent body had blossomed into a curvaceous figure a supermodel would beg to have. She shrieked in amazement at how she suddenly wore an elegant, snow-white wedding dress. She stared across at Curly who faced her, his smile giving her shivers. He had grown as well and was outfitted suitably for the occasion. To Rhonda's right, Helga, Phoebe and Big Patty stood lined up, posing as her bridesmaids, wearing ivory dresses. Nadine, standing right next to Rhonda as her maid of honor, nudged her and smiled.

"Isn't this great, Rhonda?"

Rhonda did her best to keep up her fake smile, although her sarcasm still shined through. "Yeah. Best moment of my life."

Beside Curly to his left, his best man Arnold, Gerald and Brainy who were his groomsmen were lined up, attired in tuxedos. All of them had accelerated in age as well.

"Oh, who am I fooling?" Rhonda asked. She sniffed, unable to cease her tears from descending from her eyes. "This can't be happening! I can't believe this! Getting married…to _him_? Impossible!"

Gerald whistled, shaking his head as he regarded at Rhonda. He inclined over next to Arnold and whispered in his ear. "She's a boooooooooooooold woman."

Arnold smiled at Gerald. "I know this sounds weird, but, they look kind of nice together."

Gerald grimaced. "Arnold. Stop. You're scarin' me, man."

Helga watched Rhonda with her half-lidded gaze, her heinous smirk eliciting Rhonda's hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "Aw stop your whining and suck it up, Princess. We helped pitch in for the wedding planning so you better not mess it up."

Phoebe nodded. "That's correct, Rhonda. You made an agreement and you'd better keep your end of the bargain."

Helga shoved Rhonda from the back so she stood closer to Curly. Rhonda looked back at Helga. She could tell Helga saw her antagonisms to the matrimony as absurd. "Now hurry up and kiss and stuff so I can get back home to my pastrami on rye and watch Wrestlemania."

Mr. Simmons beamed at Curly and then at Rhonda. "And so, by the power vested in me by the state of Washington, I now pronounce you married. You may kiss the bride."

Rhonda closed her eyes and sighed. "Oh God no."

The organ player whirled his head around to reveal it was a smiling Eugene, who started to play Felix Mendelssohn's "Wedding March". Curly lunged at Rhonda and besmirched his lips over hers for what felt like minutes, inducing her to waken from her sleep with an ear splitting scream.

But why? Why did she have that dream about Curly? Was it because she detected guilty he died and her remorse is being expressed in her sleep by her subconscious? Could it be she possibly missed him?

_Oh Rhonda, stop being so ridiculous. He was just an okay guy, but he went too far with me, and there was no other way I could stop him! What else could I do?  
_

Rhonda lay back down but recoiled from touching her sheets and pillows that were damp with her sweat. "Eww! I can't believe I actually left all this sweat in my sleep! Yuck! Even my hands are wet!"

She groaned in disgust and lay down, discontent about what her sweat glands emancipated during the night. Fortunately, her rapid respiring started to taper, evanescing her vision jet black. She smiled, not having to worry about her displeasure for three more hours.

As soon as the bell rang to signal the end recess, Rhonda abdicated the playground and went inside Mr. Simmons's classroom. She questioned why the room was a bit darker than usual, but thought it was no big deal. Taken aback to be the only one inside, she took her routine seat in front of Nadine and patiently waited. She sat sideways, crossing her right leg over her left. She started to thumb through a fashion magazine, smirking at the topnotch outfits she would in due time ask her parents to buy.

"This dress right here is _so_ chic."

"Rhonda…"

She uplifted her head at the light murmur of her name. Her hands lowered the Preteen Miss magazine in her lap at the sight of the hazy, murky silhouette who entered the room and stood by Mr. Simmons's desk. A large hood covered its face.

"_Rhooooooooonda…" _it whispered again, ambling sluggishly towards her.

Rhonda watched with bulging eyes at the person. "Who are you?"

_"Rhooooooooondaaaaaaaaaa…tell them the truuuuuuuuuuuuth…"_

Rhonda slipped out of her desk. Her magazine plummeted to the floor when she stood up. She backtracked toward the rear of the room. "Who are you? And what are you talking about?"

_"Tell them the truth, Rhonda…teeeeeell theeeeeeeeem…the truuuuuuuuuuuuth! So we can be freeeeeeee of our paaaaaaaaaain!"  
_

"The truth about what?"

A glaring blaze radiated down between the enigmatic person and Rhonda. _"About the BOTH OF US, RHONDA!"_

The person stepped into the light and took off its hood to reveal Curly. She screamed at the revelation that his lips had been cross-stitched, secured with solid, dingy clamps. His eyes were drooping out of its sockets, dangling on the sides of his face.

"_TELL THEEEEEEEEEM SO WE CAN BE FREEEEEEEEEE!"_

A vociferous shriek exuded from Rhonda's lips as she jerked awake while sitting in her desk.

Propitiously, the bell rang at the same time, burying the range of her yell. Her eyes frantically scoured the room until she pinpointed her best acquaintance since preschool standing over her. Rhonda jumped, hitting her back against the wooden chair. She groaned and rubbed her sides, her cheeks warm from her embarrassing actions. She couldn't believe she actually had a nightmare in front of everyone.

Rhonda gathered the audacity to stare her acquaintance in the eyes, albeit for a few seconds. She couldn't hold it and diverted it to her desk, grasping she just had to be flushing in front of everyone.

"Oh, it's you, Nadine."

Nadine retreated off and plopped in her seat converse from Rhonda. "Rhonda, you okay? It looked like you had a bad dream."

_More like a nightmare!_ Rhonda thought. She caressed the back of her head and let out a meager, anxious laugh, cloaking up her humiliation. She beheld the other kids fleeing class and brought her attentiveness back to Nadine.

"Oh, I'm just fine! There's nothing to worry about!" Rhonda said. "I just realized that um…I didn't do my homework and, um-"

She faltered when the look in Nadine's eyes vocalized louder than words. Nadine wasn't going to buy her made up concession anytime soon. "I was a little tired, okay? I was excited about some new Nancy Spumoni boots I bought last night and so I couldn't sleep. Satisfied?"

Nadine tilted her head, her eyes slightly narrow while she perceived Rhonda place a hand over her mouth and fake a yawn. Rhonda shifted her hand away and exhaled, quivering at how much uneasiness built up inside her. She saw Nadine almost like a sister, but fabricating fallacies and contriving falsehoods was the only option to exercise at the moment. She assessed, _what Nadine doesn't know won't hurt her, right?  
_

Nadine shrugged and got up from her seat with a few boxes of roaches in her hands. She jammed one in her backpack, leaving the other out on her desk. "Okay, if you say so."

If I tell Nadine the truth, she'll think I'm crazy! There's no way I'm telling her or anyone else I killed Curly, thought Rhonda, tapping her fingers on her desk.

"Hmmm," Nadine said. She held up her jar at eye level, observing the blue Glaucopsyche lygadamus palosverdesensis butterfly inside. She smiled as it fluttered around in the container for a brief moment before it landed on the bottom and folded its wings. "It's so sad what happened to Curly, huh?"

"Yeah, right, it's such a shame. Although we didn't see eye to eye, I kind of feel sorry for him," Rhonda said.

She thrust her textbooks into her bag and crammed them in. If only Nadine comprehended she had been telling the truth, hidden underneath her artificial, apathetic attitude, perchance she might attest everything to her. Rhonda lugged her bag off the ground and put the strap over her shoulder. A glance at Nadine was all Rhonda needed to get the instruction across that she yearned to leave. Nadine gathered her things and followed Rhonda out of the room. They strolled down the hall and out the front entryway of P.S. 118, pleased to hear kids laughing and conversing. Rhonda felt relieved to witness and savor the sunshine after the storm cloud of Curly's death passed over their heads.

Nadine kept her head down, paying close consideration to each step she made down the stairs. "Class isn't gonna be the same with him gone, huh?"

Rhonda nodded her head in accession, nevertheless malcontent with speaking about anything to do with Curly.

The look in Nadine's eyes, the way they shimmered, shook Rhonda's heart. "Do you think you miss him?"

Rhonda swallowed the large, icky lump down her throat and could only shrug in acknowledgment to Nadine's inquiry. She wouldn't dare admit she missed Thaddeus "Curly" Gammelthorpe. However, she couldn't say she wouldn't miss him either. Rhonda knew she was born with everything handed to her on a silver platter and wasn't exactly a saint, but she was positive she wasn't that atrocious.

So, she had to take the middle path and remain indifferent.

Soon, the two girls made it to the bus stop where Arnold, Gerald, Stinky, Harold, Sid, Helga, Phoebe and a few others congregated and were talking and laughing.

Nadine asked, "So, what you got planned for today, Rhonda?"

"Umm…" Rhonda looked up, the cogs in her brain convoluting urgently to come up with a successful lie. "My mother is taking me to a fabulous soiree."

Nadine could only nod and blink a few times after inhaling the misconstrued information Rhonda spit out. "That sounds nice. I'm gonna head over to the lake. You know, go find some new butterflies to add to my collection. I'm sure Curly would've liked to come along. He liked to join me in my frog and butterfly hunting excursions."

Rhonda's hands curled into tense fists, making her bite her bottom lip. Her eyebrows creased as she watched Nadine babble on and on about Curly.

_I swear to God. If she says one more thing about Curly, I'll scream my lungs out._

"Curly would've loved to-"

"Arrrrrrrrrrgh!" Rhonda said so strident, she made Nadine cringe and flinch. "Please, Nadine! Stop talking about Curly so much! He's dead and he's not coming back, okay? Goodness!"

Rhonda heard everyone discontinue chatting. She could feel everyone's eyes on her, which made her clam up and look at Nadine, aspiring she could pinpoint solace in this incidence of humiliation.

"You see that, Pheebs? Looks like Princess over there finally flipped her lid," Rhonda heard Helga say to Phoebe. Helga laughed and whispered some more words into Phoebe's ear.

"What's gotten into her?" Sid asked Stinky, who could only shrug his shoulders.

"Beats me."

Nadine's eyebrows furrowed. She shook her head, her cold glare making Rhonda think twice before saying anything smart.

"Rhonda, look-"

Rhonda placed her hands on her hips and stuck her nose up, turning her head. "Just drop it Nadine, okay?"

Nadine's glare grew exponentially. She folded her arms and turned her back on Rhonda. "Fine, whatever you say."

Rhonda felt a gentle hand rest on her shoulder. She turned and spotted Arnold, who pulled his hand away and returned it back by his side. She could always peruse his face like a book. His face was long with concern. "Rhonda, are you okay?"

"I'm quite fine, Arnold," Rhonda said with a feeble smile. "I've just been a little stressed lately, that's all."

Arnold shrugged. "Are you sure? Phoebe said after school she found you in the girls' bathroom crying after Curly died, and-"

Gerald walked up to Arnold and patted him on the shoulder. "C'mon Papa Theresa, she said she's fine. Don't worry about it."

"I guess you're right."

Rhonda's grin augmented a little. "Thank you, Gerald. And Arnold, I appreciate your concern, but please, no more discussions about Curly, okay?"

Minutes later, the bus arrived. Everyone filed in and showed their bus passes so they could sit down. Rhonda and Nadine chose the seat in the front, reserved just for them.

As the bus traveled along its route, the two girls mostly kept to themselves. They would create small talk that only lasted a few seconds. Otherwise, they were peculiarly quiet. Rhonda later became wearied of the awkward silence. She sighed and placed a hand on Nadine's shoulder.

"Look Nadine, I apologize for yelling at you earlier," Rhonda said. "I guess I finally realized he's gone."

Nadine nodded. "It's all right."

She got up when the bus came to a stop, jar in hand and walked out to the aisle. She stopped before she went out the door and looked over her shoulder at Rhonda, eyes forlorn, her lips curved down. "Call me later. Okay?"

"Okay."

Rhonda watched Nadine get off at her stop. She scrutinized every step Nadine's black shoes made on the sidewalk. She observed Nadine wave and say hello to Harvey the mailman, who returned her greeting when they passed each other.

Rhonda ceased being a voyeur once the bus pulled off from the curb, headed down the street toward Rhonda's stop on the other side of town. Rhonda turned so she faced the back of the bus, watching Nadine's body shrink into a small dot in the distance.

_Sorry Nadine…_ thought Rhonda. She sat normally in her seat, hands folded in her lap. She was incapable of looking at anyone in the bus the rest of her trip back home.

_I need to keep my wish for Curly's death a secret no matter what_, Rhonda pondered, looking out her window at the pedestrians and buildings and shops the bus passed by. _Maybe after people forget about Curly, I can finally stop feeling so guilty about it. I just hope they do first, before I feel too guilty and ultimately have to tell the truth._

Time flew by faster than she could comprehend. It was already dinner time. Other than the ticking from the clock, the room was quiet.

"Rhonda dear, you haven't touched your dinner. Shrimp and scallops Fettuccine is one of your favorite dishes," Rhonda's mother said. She took a small sip from her glass of wine. She beheld her daughter, her head bowed and eyes glued on her plate.

"I know, mummy."

After Rhonda responded, she averted her eyes elsewhere, opting to stare at the empty chair usually occupied by her father. For the next few days he would be out of town for an important meeting. Rhonda played with her food, dragging her noodles along her plate with her fork.

"Then what seems to be the matter? It's not the boots, is it?" Mrs. Lloyd said. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I thought I reminded Buckley they were supposed to be red, not black."

_I'm sorry mummy, but I can't tell you._

Rhonda shook her head at her mother busy reprimanding her husband. "No, mummy. The boots are indubitably exemplary!"

Rhonda finally put a forkful of food in her mouth. With each bite she took, more distress and culpability doused her conscience. After she consumed her meal she entered the bathroom and took her time removing her contacts and settled into her bubble bath prepared by her maid, taking in every breath of the lemongrass scent. After she got out and dried off, she lethargically brushed her teeth and her tongue, and cleansed her mouth out with her antiseptic mouth rinse. She methodically changed into her princess pajamas and slipped into bed, unable to remove the disconsolate look off her face and lay her head snugly on her pillow.

_I feel so hideous lying so much. But I can't tell anyone. I can't tell anyone that I'm starting to feel sorry that I murdered Curly…_

Her eyelids started to close.

_Not only that. The worst thing is I'd have to reveal…that, well…I kind of…_

Her vision became blurry.

_Perchance…_

Her dejection started to subside, replaced by tranquility.

_Presumably…_

She calmly exhaled.

_Miss him._

At that moment, her eyes closed and permitted her mind and body to plunge into a deep sleep.


	3. Free at Last

**Disclaimer: **I unquestionably, assuredly, without a shadow of a doubt,** do not own Hey Arnold!** (But if there was a way to own it for cheap, I would've done it already and I wouldn't need a disclaimer!)

**Chapter Three - Free at Last**

Rhonda felt so lonely. So empty. So hollow. She had everything she could ask for: the fanciest apparel, the most extravagant limo to go around town in, the finest, most exotic food, not to mention the greatest slumber parties. She was the most consummate child of Hillwood. But at that moment, she didn't feel like it. She glanced across the empty, lengthy table. She looked down at her plate and scooped up the last morsel of lasagna from her plate and took a bite. Every chew of it took an eternity. She finally swallowed it down, experiencing every bump and slide the bolus took on its trip down her throat. A swig of sparking apple cider usually made her happy, but this time it did nothing to absolve her of her guilt. Her mother left the table a few minutes ago, yapping away on her cell phone to Rhonda's father about something. She suddenly excused herself and went somewhere else. The maid rushed by and cleared the table of her plate. If Rhonda's mother figured out the truth, the truth that Rhonda had avoided school two days in a row, she would be yapping at her and not her father.

The tears gushed from Rhonda's eyes. She pushed her plate away and put her head down, letting it rest in her folded arms. She felt glad to be in darkness. She was tired of being in this reality, always having to concealing the truth. She was tired of keeping her mouth shut, unable to tell the truth to anyone. But why? It's what she wanted. She requested Curly to leave her alone, but she didn't truly wish for him to die. She didn't loath him that much. Her anger may have shown that he was the bane of her existence, but deep down, nothing could be further from the truth.

"What's wrong my love?"

An amiable hand came down on her shoulder and evoked her to jump. She lifted her head and glimpsed to her left. Her jaw dropped in absolute shock. His red glasses shimmered even in the dim light. His lips curled upward into a habitual big smile. Looking at his body, he was dressed in a nice, sable, three-piece suit.

"Curly!"

She tripped out of her seat, landing on her hands and knees. Supportive hands took hold of her arms and hoisted her up. They straightened out the creases and wiped some of the dust off her shirt and her knees.

"I thought you were dead, and-"

Looking up at Curly again, wondering if she'd witness his unmistakable face, absolute confusion swirled in her mind. It was actually her maid, correcting her shirt collar that had come undone when she fell.

Rhonda blushed. "I'm so sorry!"

She allowed the maid to clarify that she somehow fainted after eating dinner and was discovered on the ground when she came to check on the nine year old.

Rhonda excused herself and dashed into her room. She shut the door and pressed her back against it. Her eyes closed as she sighed with her hand on her forehead. After a silent moment, she threw herself on her bed, still dressed in her typical school clothes, worn to cover up for being absent from class. "Oh my gosh. What's wrong with me?"

Rhonda opened her eyes. She became overwhelmed by all the sounds and bright lights. Her head lethargically turned from left to right, digesting everything in the enormous room that was so spectacularly decorated. It resembled one of the balls she attended with her parents a few months ago.

People were seated at every table. Waiters ambled from table to table, bus boys carrying dirty dishes right behind them, and at the front of the room, a few chefs were in the kitchen busy preparing customers' meals. A trio of violinists in the middle of the room played Johann Sebastian Bach's "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring".

She closed her eyes and breathed in. She relished the baroque arrangement and the delightful aroma of what she discerned was spaghetti. She lifted her left hand to find she wore a long, ivory glove that went up to her elbow, as was her right. She yanked on her cherry shirt to discover it was a pure white dress. She was a full-grown female again.

_Where am I? Why am I dressed like this? What's going _on_?_

"Enjoying your dinner, babe?"

Rhonda's heart stopped in its place. Across from her sat Curly; rather, a grown up Curly. He had discontinued eating his steak tartar to chatter with Rhonda. His smile actually didn't repulse her. In fact, it felt a little…warming.

She smiled. She held up a hand and waved it at him. "It's very delicious, doll. I'm happy you took me here for my birthday."

_Doll? Curly? No way! Why did I call him doll? And why did he call me babe and I didn't slap him or something? I don't like him. Right?_

Bach's music came to an end. The piano player behind the violinists started to play "Chopin's Waltz No. 69 Op. 2" and the violinists joined with him.

Rhonda smiled and shut her eyes; enveloped in the hypnotizing sensation that piece always gave her. "Ah, how I just love this tune."

Rhonda lost her breath when she identified her hand was in Curly's. He stood by her side and helped her stand up. He directed her to the other side of the room, where a few other couples were dancing with each other, following along to the music.

Curly pulled away, her hand still in his. He bowed. "May I have this dance?"

Rhonda found herself at a loss for words. She put her other hand to her flushing cheeks, grinning. "Why yes, Curly."

After Rhonda curtsied, they moved onto the "dance floor". Curly took her right hand in his left and extended it out slightly to the side. He then placed his right hand on her left shoulder blade. She felt her face reddening even more at his touch. They soon started to do a simple box step, keeping in rhythm with the music that was so lovely to her ears. It was as if they knew where each other wanted to go, able to move as one. She sighed, feeling contented to be dancing with him. Watching the other couples dance to the waltz, she knew deep down, she and Curly were the best dancers in the room. The few moments the music continued on, gently caressing her ears, felt like forever.

_Wait, why am I dancing with him? This is Curly Gammelthorpe that I'm dancing with! I'd rather be with Harold or even Stinky than with…with him!_

Rhonda moved her lips closer to Curly's ear. She whispered, "I wish this didn't have to end."

"Me either."

"I can't believe this is happening. It's like it's a dream, like it's too good to be true. But it actually did come true."

"It has. Can you believe we've been married for a year now. It feels like we're newlyweds."

Rhonda closed her eyes and shifted her lips closer to his, the warmth of his breath inviting her closer.

_Wait, what? Newlyweds? We're married?_

She abruptly opened her eyes. At the sight of his lips, she let go of Curly, who ceased his dancing.

Curly's grin vanished. "Rhonda? What's wrong?"

"I can't do this," she said with tears in her eyes. "I just can't."

"What?"

"I've gotta go. I'm sorry."

Rhonda turned and began to scamper away, holding her dress up so it wouldn't touch the floor. Her high heels echoed throughout the room that suddenly grew silent.

"Rhonda, wait! Rhonda!"

Rhonda's eyes burst open. She looked around, finding herself in darkness. She raised the covers so she could get out of bed. She couldn't sleep anymore. Not after that dream.

She glanced at the clock. 3:12 am, it read.

She only had three more hours until her maid came in to get her dressed and prepared for breakfast. She dragged her palms over her face, bawling even though there were no tears. Too many had been shed that day for her to shed anymore. At that moment, she recognized what she had to do tomorrow after school: reveal _everything_.

Rhonda chose to take the bus after school. She didn't get off at her usual stop, but a stop at the other side of town. She sauntered down the sidewalk for a few blocks, avoiding the homeless people and intimidating strangers that headed her way. She stopped once she spotted her destination. She looked up at her friend's house. It had been two days since Curly died. She could already feel her will start to break. Observing the brick building made her will about ready to snap in half.

A cold gust of wind came and went, brushing her neck and her legs. Everything seemed to go in slow motion, like it was teasing her, taunting her to enjoy her last few hours left before everything went to Hell. Cars honked their horns in anger from someone probably negligent that the light changed to green. Beside the stoop, a few cats dashed from out behind a trash can, knocking it over and spilling trash on the sidewalk. She ignored the negative thoughts pricking and prodding her brain, trying to egg her on to turn around and go back home. Instead she placed her hand on the metal stair railing and walked up the steps to the front door, her hand up and balled into a loose fist.

She knocked once, twice, three times and took a step back. She never realized how huge the door was. Maybe her problem was making things seem scarier than they appear? She could've sworn it was only an average sized door. A quivering sigh departed from her lips. She couldn't believe it. She was actually going to ask for help. But what else could she do? She couldn't tell her parents, or the school, or any grown-ups about who really was the culprit behind Curly's early death. They'd throw her in the funny farm for saying such a thing. Or even worse, jail. The Lloyds would be totally ashamed of their daughter. Her family name would be besmirched, befouled and insulted for generations.

_I can't imagine me, Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, being thrown into those cold, dirty cells, wearing those tacky suits, shivering in a corner somewhere, talking about 'it was a mistake' while some girl is about to pound me into dust!_

Rhonda shuddered at the tactful hand that touched her arm. She raised her head to see just who she wanted to talk to. She stared at her with amiable, steadfast eyes. What scared Rhonda was they could also turn apathetic and uninviting if she was rubbed the wrong way.

"Rhonda?"

Rhonda blinked in confusion. She shook her head to clear her mind. She took a good look at who it was and laughed nervously. "Oh! Um, hi Patty," Rhonda looked down. She put her hands behind her back and nervously bounced up and down on the heels of her shoes. "If I'm interrupting you, I'll just-"

Patty frowned. She seized Rhonda's hand. "No, you're not. Come in."

Patty escorted her by the hand to the couch and they sat down. Rhonda let her hands lounge in her lap, inattentively wringing them along with the beat of the ticking from the clock. She noticed the framed picture on the end table next to Patty. Harold and Patty were smiling and sitting in a restaurant booth. It must've been a nearby hamburger joint. It definitely wasn't a fancy restaurant that Rhonda was used to. Something began to kindle in her heart. She felt a diminutive emotion of resentment about that picture. But why she felt that way, she couldn't figure it out. It couldn't be because Harold was with Patty, could it? She had already gotten over him. But what could it be about seeing them together that got on her nerves? Could it be Patty found someone while she hadn't?

Rhonda cleared her throat and finished with a smile. "I see you and Harold are getting along quite well."

Patty nodded. Rhonda prayed Patty didn't detect the bitterness in her compliment. Patty turned to look at the picture. "Yeah. We took that a few weeks ago before we went to see Wrestlemania. He got us in for free."

"Oh," Rhonda said. Her lips trembled, trying their best to maintain her hypersensitive smile. "Sounds…fun."

Patty eyed Rhonda. Her unibrow dipped down. "Is something wrong?"

Rhonda's embarrassed laugh resurfaced. "Um, what makes you say that?"

"The last time you came by was for our slumber party," Patty said. Rhonda could sense a bit of conflict in her tone. "Any other time we hung out it was at your place."

"Oh! No, it's not like that Patty. Your place is," she looked around the living room, and then stared at Patty. "Reserved. Practical. Um, yeah, very practical. Not to mention organized."

Patty frowned. "Then what is it?"

Rhonda gazed down at her jittery hands. She sighed. Patty was smarter than she thought. Not to say she was dim-witted, but she wasn't as naïve as Nadine. It also wasn't helping by the fact her hands couldn't stay still.

"Well, you see…um…" Rhonda's eyes raced back and forth between the picture and Patty's eyes, anticipating a good lie could pop in her head. After a small moment of inappropriate silence, Rhonda felt herself shrink as she situated her head in her hands. "Oh my God, this is so embarrassing."

Patty's frown disappeared. She slung her arm over Rhonda's back. "Rhonda, we're friends. You can trust me. I promise not to tell anyone."

Rhonda's uppity attitude returned as she sat up and gazed at Patty's eyes, perceptively filled with authentic concern. Rhonda's eyes ached with tears starting to clutter her eyesight. "You absolutely, positively, promise? You won't tell a single, solitary soul?"

"Yeah."

Rhonda rubbed her arm, keeping herself composed. She ignored the tingling in the back of her eyes as best she could by blinking in hopes the tears would stop coming.

Rhonda wanted to squirm at the realization that sweat was building up below her brow. There she was, alone in Patty's house. Just the two of them, yet she still refused to tell Patty the truth.

_I guess if it's anyone I can really trust to keep a secret, it's Patty. Plus, who knows what she'd do if she found out I lied to her. I mean look at her! She could beat any other sixth grader to a pulp! Imagine what she could do to me?_

"Rhonda, it's okay. I'm here to listen. Tell me what's wrong."

She brought a finger under her eye and wiped a tear away. "You remember Curly, right?"

"Yeah. The fourth grader who hunkered down in Principal Wartz's office over not being ball monitor? I think he also let the animals free from the zoo during Arnold's geek party, right?"

"Right. That's him."

"I feel sorry for his family. You know, because of what happened to him."

Rhonda winced from the lightning bolt that pierced her heart, making it feel inflamed. The last thing she wanted was to be reminded by someone else about his death. She thanked God her straight face didn't falter. "Um, yeah, me too," she paused. She took a deep breath. "And you remember a few days ago when you recommended where to buy that potion I wanted?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

An estranged, feverish sentiment fluttered throughout Rhonda's chest. Cold sweat popped up in spots in her palms. The clock ticking grew louder. Patty's house phone ringing sounded like it was directly in her ear. A motorcycle that growled as it sped by Patty's house almost gave her a heart attack.

The sounds, the thoughts, the conflicting emotions, her apprehensiveness, suddenly exploded within her. She threw herself at Patty, wrapping her arms around her, burying the side of her face in her chest.

"I took the potion you said that would work and the directions specifically said to take it at night and the next morning you can make your wish come true, so I took it and the next morning Curly was bothering me all day and at lunch, so I finally had enough of his antics and stalking me all the time so I confronted him about it and I threw him against a locker and told him I wish he'd do everyone a favor and just die or something, and then the next two days he didn't show up in class and then on the second day Mr. Simmons told us that he died and that's when I realized he died because of my dumb, stupid wish and he's dead because it's all my faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaault!"

Rhonda sobbed extravagantly in her friend's chest, something she never envisioned ever occurring. Maybe with Nadine, but with Patty, it never crossed her mind. It felt like an eternity she kept her head there. It was a place she could finally release her frustrations.

Rhonda finally drew back and upon seeing the wet patch that not just comprised of tears but mucus on Patty's shirt, she gasped.

"Oh my gosh Patty, I'm like, so sorry about that! I promise you I'll have my maid wash it for you, and-"

Patty held up her hand to make Rhonda stop. She said with a smile, "Don't worry about it. Besides, since you've been gone from school the past few days, you've got a lot of catching up to do."

Patty helped Rhonda up and walked her to the door. Rhonda stepped out and turned back around to face her. Rhonda wanted to say something, but Patty cut her off. "Listen. Meet me tomorrow twenty minutes before school starts. I'll fill you in on everything, including an update on Curly."


	4. Rhonda's Reality Check

**Disclaimer: **I utterly, wholly, no ifs ands or buts, no strings attached,** do not own Hey Arnold!**

**Chapter Four - Rhonda's Reality Check**

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd felt her heart would break through her chest and land onto the dining room table. Every breath she took burned her lungs, her chest and her stomach. Everything in the room appeared blurry, out of focus. She took her final swallow of a rare kind of lobster and spent a minute chewing on the delicacy that once tasted so good. Now it had no taste, no flavor, no life; it was only flesh. At last, she swallowed. It tickled the back of her throat, causing a few light coughs to erupt from her mouth. A few gulps of water saved her from what could have been the most embarrassing choking while eating moment of her life.

"Rhonda, darling, is everything okay?"

Rhonda flinched at the sound of her name. For the first time in her life, her father's confident smile gave her chills. She nodded and then gave him a smile and a light laugh. "Yes, daddy."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? You've been unusually quiet tonight. You usually have a lot to say."

Rhonda's mother drank some wine from her glass before speaking. "Buckley, darling, she's been like this for the past three days. I've debated on taking her to see a physician."

Rhonda shuddered and shook her head. _Oh gosh. Now she thinks I'm sick or something!_

"I doubt that's why she's not all right, dear," Mr. Lloyd rubbed his chin for a moment. He snapped his fingers. "Ah! I remember your mother mentioned the boots I bought you. Is that why you're feeling down?

Mrs. Lloyd sighed.. "Dear, if only you had remembered to get them in red, not in black. She already had the black ones-"

Mr. Lloyd frowned. "Well, I would've remembered to get them in red if you had left the message on my PDA-"

Mrs. Lloyd nodded. "I did, darling, and it specifically stated to get them in _red_, not _black_-"

Rhonda stood straight up. Her hands pressed down on the table, she groaned. "Mommy! Daddy! It's not the _boots_!"

Complete silence took over the once vibrant room filled with Rhonda's parents' engaged conversation. Rhonda looked at her mother and father's faces. Their wide open eyes, partially opened mouths and her mother's gasp made Rhonda regret yelling at them.

"They're perfectly fine! I love them! It's just..." she sat back down, sliding down a few inches in her chair. The quietness, especially from her parents, made her feel more uneasy. "Someone in my class died, and...I - I feel horrible about killing - er, I mean, I feel horrible about him getting sick and dying. They weren't a close friend of mine but...I guess I kind of miss...having him around."

"Oh dear..."

"Oh my word..."

"We're terribly sorry."

"We most certainly are."

"Thank you mommy. Thank you daddy."

...

Rhonda excused herself from the dining room table. She gave hugs and kisses to her mother and father and trudged out the dining room to her dimly lit bedroom. Before she got ready for bed, she sat down at her vanity. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she frowned at her image. She looked so downtrodden, depressed and a shell of her former self. A tear trickled down her cheek. Her red, puffy eyes stared back as if unable to recognize the nine year old rich girl who mimicked every movement, every emotion. She turned away from her image, repulsed like a vampire would be to a cross. She left the vanity set and found herself face up on her bed, arms folded over her chest.

_Rhonda darling, look at you! How can you be so moved because that pest died? You wanted him gone, right? Well, he's gone now! You should be happy! Ecstatic!_

"But I'm not. It's like, his death makes me miss him more and more."

She glanced at her alarm clock. _7:45 pm_, it read.

She let her head fall on her pillow. She exhaled sharply. "It's official. As of 7:45 pm, I, Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, admit that I like, or rather _liked_...Curly."

Rhonda rolled over and mushed her face in the pillow, able to sob without anyone hearing a single cry.

...

The next morning, Rhonda got off the bus. She didn't realize she would be one of the only few people on the bus, so she arrived 32 minutes early. Her hands held her books close to her chest as if it were a shield to protect her from danger. The fog, the cold winds, and the barren school yard gave her chills. The school almost looked like it was abandoned, maybe even haunted.

Thoughts of running away flooded her mind. Maybe Patty would only tell her things she already knew, like Curly was dead. And now that Patty knew the truth, she could tell Principal Wartz, the police or anyone else about Rhonda's wish to make Curly die and Rhonda could be punished and ridiculed for the rest of her life. Also, Rhonda wasn't talking with Nadine because she could tell someone about Curly's death, so her best friend of so many years was not someone she wanted to confide in.

Rhonda stood in front of the stairs of the school. Her entire body tingled with numbness, not just from the cold weather, but from what was about to come. In 12 minutes, Patty would either save or destroy her life, her reputation, and most of all, her sanity. Rhonda would rather wallow in misery and plunge down a bottomless pit than discover what happened to Thaddeus "Curly" Gammelthorpe, the demented psycho of P.S. 118. Rhonda knew the boy was dead. But what was it that made him die? How did his parents take the horrible news? How would they react when they find out the most stylish socialite of Hillwood murdered their only child? What would happen to Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, the most fashionable and knowledgeable girl in Hillwood?

_Eight minutes left..._

The image of Curly's grinning face sent shivers up her spine. Memories of him fixing her mother's coat, willing to "dump" her in order to make Rhonda the one everyone in school should feel sorry about, giving her flowers and candy, and offering to take her out to dinner at many of the most expensive restaurants brought tears to her eyes.

Rhonda chuckled. "Crap. That's how I feel right now. Like absolute _crap_."

_Four minutes left..._

She sat on the bottom step of P.S. 118, hunched over with her head in her hands. She watched a few cars pass by, grown-ups walking along the sidewalk move to and fro, busy being trapped in their ordinary lives, not having to worry about going insane.

Rhonda sighed. _They're lucky. Able to live lives so uncomplicated. None of them killed someone they wouldn't admit they wanted to have around._

_Time's up._

"Hey Rhonda."

Rhonda lifted her head. She gasped, unable to recognize the large figure over her. She brought her attention to the person's straight face that showed no emotion and sighed in relief. "Hey Patty."

_Well Rhonda doll, enjoy your last few minutes of freedom..._

Patty took a seat next to Rhonda. They both stared straight ahead, not looking at one another. Rhonda couldn't face Patty. She had revealed everything to her. How was it Patty wasn't laughing at her, using her weakness as an advantage to put her down after Rhonda had basically used her to get through finishing school. Now was Patty's chance to get revenge, and yet she kept quiet. Maybe Patty was waiting to get the last laugh? Maybe this was all a set-up to get Rhonda in trouble?

Rhonda's thumbs twiddled in her lap. She absolutely abhorred long periods of silence when around other people. "So..."

Patty faced Rhonda. She put a hand on Rhonda's shoulder. "In a few minutes, you'll know _everything_."

Rhonda looked at Patty. If she didn't become friends with Patty, Rhonda would've guessed that her furrowed eyebrow and lack of a smile meant she was about to get beat up. But she knew Patty wasn't going to cause any trouble, although every time Rhonda stared directly into Patty's eyes, she found it difficult to swallow the thick lump in her throat from being so nervous. She winced as it squeezed down her esophagus. "You mean...about Curly?"

Patty nodded. "Yeah. Three days after he died, Arnold told me what happened to him."

Rhonda felt her eyes enlarge so much, they almost burst. "He told you _everything_?"

"He found out what happened to Curly and wanted to tell you the news personally, but you didn't come to school. He figured I would tell you."

Rhonda averted her gaze from Patty to her new red Dansko clogs. "Yeah, well, I couldn't admit to anyone that I had killed-"

"Rhonda! You're here!"

Rhonda was almost ready to faint at the sound of that voice. _His_ voice. She couldn't look. She refused to see where that voice came from. It had to be her mind playing tricks, fooling her into thinking that he was somewhere in the vicinity; that Curly was yards away.

His voice returned. "Rhonda...I knew I could see you again."

"Patty, I _must_ be schizophrenic or something," Rhonda shrugged. "I keep hearing Curly-"

Her heart completely stopped. She couldn't breathe. Her mouth felt as dry as cotton. There, standing next to Patty, was Curly with his characteristic smile that either meant he was your friend or you saw him as a complete nerd and a lunatic. A few bandages were placed on his cheek, his left hand and his neck.

Rhonda smiled at Patty. "You mean, you brought him here?"

"Yeah. After I talked to him about it, he said he wanted to show up himself and tell you the truth."

Rhonda stared at Curly, still in shock. "But I thought...Mr. Simmons told us that you...that you were supposed to be-"

"Dead?" Curly shook his head. "The whole school thought I was dead for three days. I was holed up in the hospital because of some strange new strain of the flu. I think it's called H1M1 or something. Luckily they found some medicine that took care of it."

Rhonda bit her lip, trying not to explode into tears. She laughed. "You're kidding me."

"Wish I was," he said. The smile on Curly's face vanished. "I was with my parents and my cousin down in South America in some jungle somewhere. My dad had some business to take care of down there and we all had to go. We went on a ride in our friend's van but unfortunately we got in an accident. Our friend tried not to hit another car and so we went off the road thinking we could pass the car by but the front tire blew out and the van flew down this steep slope and crashed down by a river. I had a few internal injuries and some scrapes and stuff, my parents did too, but I'm fine."

"Wow," Rhonda sniffed, wiping her cheeks free of tears with her shirt sleeve. "What about your cousin?"

Curly sighed. "He wasn't so lucky. He suffered a horrible injury that left him unable to get enough oxygen to his brain, so he had a stroke and...they weren't able to take him to see a specialist in time and he...he died."

"Oh my God. I'm _so_ sorry."

Curly took off his glasses. He removed a tear from his eye with a finger and then put his glasses on. "He went to our school. He was in the fourth grade like us, but had a different teacher. His name was Faddeus Gammelthorpe. No one really knew him because he was so antisocial, even more than me. When the school got word of the news of his death, they mixed our names up. We both caught the same flu from some bug that's indigenous to the area. They thought I died from it and he lived after having a stroke. Everyone thought Faddeus was okay and I was dead, when...it was the other way around. When I came back in town yesterday, Arnold was the first to find out I was still alive. He thought I was a ghost until I convinced him I wasn't dead. Then the news spread and the school fixed the problem."

"Wait. Then that means," Rhonda turned to Patty. "The potion was a hoax? And I never killed anyone? And I won't be going to jail or the nuthouse?"

Patty put on a weak smile. "To be honest Rhonda, I only told you about her shop so you would leave me alone. You kept asking me about it all day, so I had to say something."

Rhonda stood up and jumped in place, screaming with joy and shouting multiple "thank you"'s not just towards Patty but also because her reputation was safe and sound. After a minute, she finally stopped. Not too far off, the bus let off some students, including some in Mr. Simmons's class. They started to congregate in front of the school or head inside.

Rhonda looked at Curly. "Curly, look. I'm sorry about all the yelling and the fighting and stuff. I realized that you're not...you're not too bad of a guy. I was wrong for being so upset."

Curly beamed. "Really?"

"Yeah. But _please_, promise me, there will be _no more_ stalking and trying to kiss me and all that stuff."

"Got it."

"So I was wondering, if, um, maybe sometime this evening, like maybe at 5 or 6 o'clock, we could-"

Curly laughed, pumping his fist. "Absolutely, Rhonda! I'd _love_ to go out with you!"

Rhonda grimaced. "But wait, you didn't let me finish-"

Curly ran up the steps of P.S. 118. "I can't wait until tonight, when we go on our very first date! Woo hoo!"

After he entered the school, Rhonda frowned and groaned in annoyance and frustration. Even in front of other students and her classmates, she had to let out her grievances.

"Grrrrrr! I can't believe it! I try to nicely ask the little twerp if we could go over our group assignment we have to present next week, and he thinks we're going on a date!"

She growled and then glanced at Patty, who let out a few laughs. Patty grabbed her backpack and headed up the stairs towards the front entrance of P.S. 118.

"Patty, wait!"

"You're on your own this time, Rhonda."

Rhonda sighed. "Arrrrrgh! Why do these things have to happen to _me_? Why _me_?"

The bell rang, letting them know class was about to start. Rhonda grabbed her bag and marched up the steps, catching up to Nadine. They stopped at the top of the stoop and faced each other.

Nadine looked down. "Hey Rhonda. I just want to say, um, about us not speaking to each other and stuff-"

"Nadine, look. I'm sorry about yelling at you and not talking to you, okay? I was just going crazy because of the whole Curly death thing. I actually thought I killed him. I didn't want anyone to know. Well, except Patty."

"Really?"

"It's a long story. But yeah, I can't stay upset because of what happened days ago, and neither should you."

"You're right."

"Yeah."

"So..."

"So..."

Nadine smirked. "Friends?"

Rhonda grinned. "Friends."

Rhonda and Nadine hugged. Rhonda stepped back after letting go and stared at Nadine for a minute. Unable to hold a straight face any longer, she giggled.

Nadine smiled. "What's so funny?"

"I'll tell you on the way to class," Rhonda led the way into the school with Nadine right behind her. "You're never going to believe this..."

**The End!**


End file.
